


Juxtaposition

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mouth Fucking, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Politics, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Tie Gag, dom Schlatt, election arc, sub quackity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28885638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: To Schlatt, being a traitor was an executable offense: so that’s why it was definitely lucky for Tubbo that Quackity decided to come out of his office when he did. In all fairness, Schlatt coming across his smaller Vice President probably benefited all parties involved: Tubbo got to live, Quackity got to be of use, and Schlatt got to fuck his anger away.—Basically, Schlatt fucks Quackity into a stupor over his desk.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt
Comments: 7
Kudos: 462
Collections: Anonymous





	Juxtaposition

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting separate from the collection. If ur cool comment Awooga Quackity and also something else

Schlatt believed himself to be a man of principle: fuck with him, he’d fucking kill whoever had the gall. So that was why when he figured out that his Secretary of State was working with the enemy, he was prepared to march straight to that shrimpy kid’s office and slit his goddamn throat. Treason? Against his _precious_ Manburg?

Quackity had intercepted him on his way to Tubbo’s office actually- it was the one at the end of the hallway. He’d wanted the best view of the country, and because Schlatt was a _decent guy,_ he’d let the kid have what he wanted. 

What a goddamn mistake.

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s wrong?” Quackity had opened his own door just as Schlatt had been walking by, anger clear in his posture. Murder, he was about to commit fucking murder, and it wasn’t going to be cute. The much shorter man rushed to stand in front of Schlatt, reaching out a hand to rest on his chest and hold him back. “I’m pretty sure Tubbo’s working on some big project for the festival, so if you’re going to rant to him I probably-” Schlatt barked out a sarcastic laugh, balling his fists.

“Oh I’m fucking _sure_ he’s got some plans for the goddamn festival.” He growled. Quackity quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

“Am I missing something here?” He asked. His hand was warm against Schlatt’s chest, and could probably feel the rapid beating of his heart. It was an unusual day; it was after 12pm and Schlatt was completely sober, and he actually looked presidential. Thick, fluffy brown hair was obviously brushed through and framed his horns nicely. His facial hair was trimmed, and he wore a crisp white button down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and his signature blood red tie and black slacks. Of all days to actually do his fucking _job,_ of course he’d have to get blood all over everything.

Quackity was a nice juxtaposition to himself. Much shorter than himself with soft features where his own were angular, the man was his opposite in every way. He always had that damn hat on, covering hair that Schlatt had recently found himself imagining taking into his grip and pulling until sweet sounds erupted from those delectably pink lips. He’d found himself jerking off to thoughts of his Vice President an alarming amount of times, thinking about how easy it would be to fuck him up against a wall, or get the shorter to suck him off under that big mahogany desk. He didn’t say the guy had the fattest ass in the cabinet for show, either. Schlatt wanted to have it in his goddamn hands.

“You know what, Quackity? I think I have some things to fill you in on.” Schlatt said, his voice dropping. Nothing got the blood flowing like having a traitor on his hands- maybe if he got his rocks off he’d be in a more clear headspace about the situation. The hand on his chest was burning him- fuck, he was pathetic.

“We can go in my office if that works.” Quackity said, and suddenly the hand was gone. Schlatt cleared his throat roughly, then nodded in agreement. The shorter ushered him through the open door, and promptly shut it behind him, the air immediately feeling charged. Maybe Schlatt was just livid and horny- it could’ve been fucking with his perception. 

Immediately, the ram hybrid took Quackity’s seat behind the desk, leaving the other to stand on the opposite end. The sun glaring through the window was warm on Schlatt’s side, not helping the growing heat in his body.

“Here’s the deal.” Quackity looked at him expectantly, the expression making Schlatt want to rail him until he was slackjawed and drooling. “I have reason to believe that there’s a traitor in our midst.” He admitted. Quackity’s brows shot up immediately.

“Are you serious?” He asked, simultaneously crossing his arms over his chest.

“Would I lie to you?” Quackity stayed silent. Schlatt leaned back in his chair, back pressed to the leather while he closed his eyes and massaged his temples. “You know, I do a lot for this country. I won that election fair and fuckin square, and still I have to hear about Wilbur Soot and Tommy goddamn Innit.” He sighed. “Ya know I had one request, just one: they’re banned from Manberg. That was their one rule. I don’t give a fuck what else they wanted to do, they could start a brand new country for all I care. I could’ve taken that over too, but I know about _respect.”_ Schlatt opened his eyes to see Quackity’s gaze snap up to meet his own-

He had a sneaking suspicion as to what the younger man had been looking at.

“Those motherfuckers don’t have an ounce of respect in their entire bodies, and neither does that fucking traitor.” Schlatt gripped the armrests harder when Tubbo came to mind again, the veins on his hands protruding. “But you, Quackity. You know what respect is.” His voice was low and gravelly as he looked up through brown waves that had fallen into his eyes, noticing the half lidded gaze that was upon him.

“Of course, sir.” He replied, volume fairly low. Schlatt chuckled, reaching up to scratch his chin.

“Ya know, I was about to make a very rash decision before you showed up, so I’m glad you did.” He stood from the chair, revelling in the small audible hitch of Quackity’s breath when he reached his full height, the bulge in his pants on full display. “But I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to plan an execution-” He walked around the desk, looking down into Quackity’s blown out pupils. “How would you feel about helping your president get his head right again?” Schlatt reached out a hand, trailing his fingers over the soft skin of Quackity’s neck that was exposed over his shirt collar. The shorter smirked up at him.

“I think it would be an honor.” He replied, and immediately Schlatt was bending over to capture his lips roughly, teeth clashing painfully together for a moment before Quackity submitted, allowing his superior to take control of the kiss. Schlatt’s hand was wrapped around the back of Quackity’s neck to keep him in the exact position the taller wanted him in, and the other reached down to squeeze his Vice President’s ass cheek, making him gasp into Schlatt’s mouth.

“Fuck.” The vulgar word escaped Quackity’s lips, leaving just enough time for Schlatt to slip his tongue into the waiting mouth. Quackity was absolutely no stranger to cursing, but hearing him curse in _this_ context was enough to have Schlatt’s cock leaking precum into his boxers. He continued to knead the flesh through starched dress pants, the little gasps exiting pink lips driving the taller on.

“Fattest ass in the cabinet.” Schlatt said as he pulled away, grinning at Quackity’s dazed expression and puffy, spit covered lips.

“What can i say? I was blessed.” Quackity joked in reply. Schlatt let a low noise rumble from his throat, trailing his other hand down Quackity’s body until it too rested on his ass, squeezing and pulling until he eventually hefted the smaller man up into his arms. A cute little shriek left his lips as he wrapped his legs around Schlatt’s waist, and arms around his neck. 

“I’m gonna fucking destroy you.” Schlatt whispered into his ear, smiling at the shuddering intake of breath from the other man. Quackity bared his neck in an invitation that Schlatt was absolutely not going to ignore. He licked down the length of the shorter’s jugular, latching his mouth onto a patch of skin near the base of his neck, just over his collar.

Schlatt had always been a possessive guy, ever since was a teenager. He liked to conquer, and he liked to show off his prizes: it was no surprise that he would leave several purple hickies on Quackity’s exposed neck. 

“Fucking Christ-” He whimpered. Schlatt walked them across the room, pressing Quackity’s back up against the wall to get some of the pressure off of his arms. He could feel the other man’s hard on pressed against his stomach, and the subtle way he was grinding up against Schlatt’s abs. The ram hybrid smirked, dropping his hands from Quackity’s ass and letting his legs drop back to the floor. “Schlatt-” He whined, big eyes darkened with need. The taller simply wrapped a big hand around his throat, the other letting out a loud moan from the contact.

“This isn’t about you.” He growled, squeezing ever so slightly. The anger at Tubbo was still ripe in his veins, and he had to actively remind himself that hurting Quackity wasn’t going to get him anywhere; he let go, decided to start unbuttoning his own shirt instead. Quackity was breathing hard for a moment, eyes locked on Schlatt’s fingers before he unceremoniously dropped to his knees, undoing his own shirt while moving forward to mouth at the clothed cock before him teasingly. The unexpected nature of the move caused Schlatt to gasp out and jerk his hips forward, pressing himself even more into Quackity’s lips. “Oh, is that how we’re playing, hm?” His shirt was already unbuttoned, abs on display with that red tie still hanging down. He put a hand on the back of Quackity’s head, and after a short moment of deliberation peeled off that goddamn hat, threw it to the side, and buried his fingers in that soft dark hair. 

Big brown eyes glanced up at him, a noise of contentment escaping his lips when his hair was roughly pulled. Schlatt was unabashedly grinding his cock into Quackity’s face, head thrown back in pleasure.

“Can I suck you off?” The question made a wide grin come to the taller’s lips, and without even answering, he immediately began to undo his belt, sliding it quickly from the loops to discard it somewhere on the other side of the room. Quackity got the hint and began to unbutton and unzip his president’s pants, the garment quickly falling to the floor to be stepped out of and kicked away. Schlatt took pride in the way his partner’s eyes seemed to widen when he finally got the full picture of what was about to go in his mouth through a pair of tight black boxer-briefs.

“Don’t pussy out now, Q.” The words were an obvious challenge.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Quackity replied, the hand returning to play with his hair. The younger looked forward again, breath hitching. “You’re fucking _huge.”_ He said, and it definitely didn’t hurt Schlatt’s ego to hear.

“Then you better get used to it quick.” Schlatt replied nonchalantly. Quackity rolled his eyes, reaching out to pull the waistband of the underwear down so that it could be discarded along with Schlatt’s pants. His cock was completely hard and red at the tip, leaking copious amounts of precum. The president moaned at the release, and subsequently sucked in a sharp breath at Quackity’s hand wrapping around the base, and his tongue lapping lazily at his head. “Goddamnit.” Schlatt grunted, resting his hand on the wall for balance while the other continued to pull on long, dark hair. 

Quackity started at a teasing, lazy pace that Schlatt was most definitely not in the mood for. His brow furrowed as be began to rock his hips forward, pushing more of his length into the warm mouth presented to him. Every inch that entered made him feel like he was closer to the stars, Quackity’s talented tongue tracing the first quarter of the big vein that ran all the way up his shaft. He grunted when the tip of Quackity’s tongue danced over his slit, his hips stuttering forward. 

He wasn’t in the mood to be teased.

Without warning, Schlatt pulled Quackity forward by the hair, sheathing almost his entire cock in the younger’s mouth, who immediately tried to pull back from the intrusion.

“I know you can take it, whore.” The older grunted, pulling back for just a second to let Quackity catch his breath and admire the tears that were beginning to leak from his eyes and the way one of his hands was desperately gripping one of his legs to keep himself grounded. The reprieve was short lived, and soon enough Schlatt was fucking Quackity’s face roughly, the wet sounds of choking and low growling moans and dirty praises filling the air of the office. Drool leaked from Quackity’s mouth, his eyes just about rolled to the back of his head and mouth relaxed as much as it could be while it was used, and to Schlatt’s pleasure, one of his hands was undoing his own belt and pants sloppily, taking out his own achingly hard cock to jerk himself off. “I’m still gonna fuck you whether you come now or not, so you might want to consider that.” He punctuated every other word with a sharp thrust forward, making the other gag and drool even more.

Schlatt thought Quackity looked his absolute best like that; on his knees, being used. He obviously _liked_ it too.

Eventually, Schlatt pulled his cock out, a string of thick saliva connecting the tip to Quackity’s bruised lips. The taller pulled him to his feet, immediately crashing their lips back together. He’d never understood why so many men had an aversion to kissing their partner after they’d given head: he liked tasting himself on Quackity’s lips. It made it that much easier for him to know that he’d conquered the other man.

“Schlatt-” His voice was attractive like that: his throat had so obviously just been used. The ram hybrid wrapped a lazy hand around his spit-covered dick, easily jerking himself off while watching Quackity remove the rest of his clothing desperately, leaving it laying messily on the plush red carpet of his office.

“What can I do for you?” Schlatt asked, leaning against the wall, cock in hand. He had no shame, and he knew that Quackity was wrapped around his finger. The shorter let out a small whine, gingerly reaching out to run his fingers over Schlatt’s torso, pushing the white shirt from his shoulders to fall to the ground, leaving him in only his tie.

“I want you to use me. Get your anger out.” Quackity said, neediness permeating his tone to the point where the words were almost a complaint. Schlatt took his time to answer, watching Quackity work himself up to the point where he stepped forward and grabbed the back of Schlatt’s head, bringing his lips down while fingers traced over his horns. The taller pulled out of the kiss, grabbing Quackity by the waist to pick him up and carry him to the desk, setting his feet down at the base and quickly turning him around and setting a hand between his shoulder blades, pushing him to lean forward until his ass was presented.

“Oh I’ll fucking use you, alright.” Schlatt got to his knees at the realization that he, of course, wasn’t in his own office, and therefore didn’t have any lube. He was too lazy to ask Quackity if he had any, and besides; what was a little more fun?

He spread Quackity’s asscheeks open, getting a first look at the tight little hole before him. The shorter began to question what he was doing, before a loud moan erupted from his lips at Schlatt’s tongue flicking at his sphincter. The older smirked at the reaction, then dived back in, teasing the tight skin with the flat of his tongue, making sure to use plenty of spit before pressing the tip inside.

“Schlatt fuck me, _please,_ I don’t wanna wait, please, please-” Quackity begged, fingernails scratching at the polished wood of the desk. Schlatt tutted, getting to his feet to yet another whine. 

“If you keep that up, Tubbo’s gonna hear you being a little slut, ya know.” He grinned devilishly, loosening his tie to take it completely off, the red silk soft in his hand. He stepped forward, pressing his long cock against Quackity’s ass as he bent over the shorter’s back. “Open your mouth.” He commanded, and even without being able to see his Vice’s face, he knew that he’d obeyed. Without wasting another second, Schlatt put the tie between the other’s teeth to act as a gag, tying the remaining fabric behind his head. He pressed a kiss in between the man’s shoulder blades as he backed away, a hand swatting the ass before him with a low moan and twitch in reaction. “That should help.”

Schlatt looked down again at the spit covered hole before him, and decided that he’d had enough waiting. He put three fingers in his mouth, covering them liberally in saliva, then easily pressing one finger into Quackity without warning, thrusting it in and out and crooking the finger upwards to open the man up. It didn’t take long to graduate to a second finger, Quackity squirming and mewling prettily through the tie in his mouth. Finally, he was knuckle deep with the third finger, Quackity’s hips jumping and precum leaking onto the desk when Schlatt pressed up against his prostate.

“You’re gonna look so fucking sexy with my cock filling you.” He praised, taking his fingers out for a moment to add more spit, then pressing them back in roughly for a final pass. “You’re mine, you know that? You know how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you like this, at my mercy? I had my fuckin cock in hand every night imagining the bulge I’d see in your stomach when I finally got to tear you apart.” He took his fingers out, spit on his hand to add more lubrication to his aching cock, then finally rested the tip on Quackity’s trembling hole. “You’re gonna take this, slut. And you’re gonna be addicted to it.” Schlatt said, his voice rolling out in a low rumble. Quackity was babbling into his gag, no words discernible, but the ram hybrid got the gist.

He thrust forward suddenly, burying himself to the hilt in one move, Quackity’s cry muffled by the pretty red tie in his mouth. Schlatt’s hands found his hips, using them as leverage to drive his aching dick into the tight, wet heat presented to him. His hair fell in his face but he didn’t dare swipe it way at the risk of losing his momentum. His body felt like it was on fire, the only though in his head to _breed the bitch taking his cock._

Schlatt really did wish he could hear the pretty moans and pleads that were coming out of Quackity’s mouth in their true form. Fuck, would it be so bad if the trator heard? Would that really be the worst thing?

Schlatt hit Quackity’s prostate and the other moaned out, head turned to the side and resting on the table as his body was used. He sure didn’t seem to mind.

“I can’t wait to fill you up with my cum, fuck it’ll look so good dripping out of you.” Schlatt had a habit of dirty talking when he was close to coming, but he found in practice that his partners usually enjoyed it. His grip on those small hips was deadly, and would almost definitely be leaving bruises in his wake. Quackity was his, and the more marks that were on his body to prove his allegiance the better. “You’ll have to walk around for the rest of the day like that, seeing everyone and talking to them and knowing that my cock fucked up your guts.” He thrusted forward especially hard at the thought, the sound of skin slapping skin filling his ears and bringing him even closer. “They’ll see those hickies I left on your neck and know exactly who you belong to-” Quackity’s whines began to get louder, and his hips pressed back to meet Schlatt’s thrusts. “They’re all know that you’re nothing more than Schlatt’s little cockslut.” He moaned, and suddenly Quackity cried out, and went limp. Schlatt didn’t slow down his thrusts, but he smiled at the knowledge that he’d just made the younger come without so much as touching his cock.

He was close himself; he knew it was only a matter of time, so he sped up, leaning over Quackity’s sweaty back and whispering dirty things into his ear, and pressing kisses to the back of his neck, his beard rubbing against the soft skin reddening it. Down the hall he heard a door open, his hybrid senses more attuned to sound. Suddenly, the anger rushed through him again, and with one hard thrust he came inside Quackity with a long, low groan. The footsteps came closer, and while Schlatt didn’t suppress his fast breaths in an attempt to keep quiet, he knew that the young traitor wouldn’t walk in.

And if he did, well that was his fault.

Schlatt pulled out slowly, not missing the wince from his Vice, nor the large amount of cum that dripped down his thigh.

“Ah, thank you Quackity- I needed that.” He said, tone instantly switching to be more casual. He walked around the desk to see Quackity’s eyes red rimmed from crying, and his bottom lip bleeding a bit. He chuckled as he removed the tie, using it to wipe off his softening cock and throwing it on the floor. “You can keep that as a souvenir.” He said. The man on the desk laughed a bit.

“What, are you saying there isn’t more to come?” He asked, wincing as he stood up to pop his back and stretch out. Schlatt quirked an eyebrow.

“Do you want there to be?” Quackity shrugged his shoulders, making his way to the pile of clothes on the floor.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it. You’re sexy when you’re mad.” He said, then paused. “Were you able to get your head right about the traitor?” Schlatt thought for a moment what he was gonna do about Tubbo. Now that he’d gotten his anger out, he was actually able to start brainstorming his revenge.

His gaze landed on a piece of paper that had fallen to the floor in the chaos: a draft of the Manberg festival’s invitation. 

A wicked smile crossed his lips as the pair began to dress.

Yes, the festival would do nicely.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this as a part of a one shot collection a bit ago, but I decided I wanted to make it its own fic. Lmao I hope you enjoyed- leave a comment or a kudos; whatever works <3


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